


October 12th

by Nightsister



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, Future Fic, M/M, Past Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-04-30 23:06:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5183069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightsister/pseuds/Nightsister
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“October 12th,” he ground out, willing his voice not to break. “Tell me about October 12th.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	October 12th

**Author's Note:**

> So Sterek Week happened and I enjoyed many fics but never thought to take part. Then I read a bunch of SceneStealer stuff and I've always thought this little scene set during the Marvel Secret Invasion event was tragic and beautiful in its tragedy and it was originally with Clint Barton and Bobbi Morse (one of my favorite Marvel OTPs) so I had to do it. So there. I highly doubt I'll keep going with this since I have NO IDEA what's going on here anyway, but please enjoy this little bit.
> 
> Also, there might be something that could cause you pain so check the notes at the end if you feel you need to. I don't want anyone to feel bad because I didn't warn for it.

“Whoa whoa, wait. Derek? Come on, Derek. It’s me.”

In the darkness of the woods, under the waxing moon, Stiles held up his hands in the universal surrender gesture. He looked exhausted, pale, helpless. Derek thought Stiles never looked more beautiful. But he had to be sure.

“October 12th,” he ground out, willing his voice not to break. “Tell me about October 12th.”

Stiles straightened, confused. “What? Why-?”

“Uh, Derek?” Kira remained in her fighting stance, her grip on her katana confident and firm, but her eyes looked wary. “You really want to do this now?”

But Derek kept a steady, unrelenting gaze on the man in front of him. On his husband. “You’ve been missing for _two months_ ,” he told Stiles. “We found three copies of Scott in that lab, all in different states of… growth. And they all smelled like him.” He extended his fingers, claws out and ready. “So you tell me what October 12th means to you or I swear to God, I’ll-”

“Okay!” Stiles yelped. He blinked once, twice, and then a third time. It didn’t help. A tear traveled slowly down his cheek. “Okay.” He scrubbed a hand wearily over his face. “Uh, yeah. Um, Beacon Hills had been quiet for over two years,” he said, staring at the ground, “and we’d been married for about that long, too, and uh. We thought, we thought maybe we could start a family.” He looked up, eyes glistening. “I fucking hate you for this.”

_You’re not the only one_ , Derek thought. Kira had relaxed her hold on her weapon and was now looking on quietly, sadness and understanding dawning on her face. He glanced at her, silently pleading with her to say nothing, and turned back to Stiles. “Go on.”

“Shit,” Stiles muttered. “Yeah. Um, we wanted to start a family. And there was really only one person we could think of to carry the next generation of Hales.” His mouth twisted into a rueful smile. “Malia was so excited and happy for us, she was totally down for it.” He gulped a lungful of air and held it for a long second, before blowing it out shakily. “When the Desert Fox finally caught up to us and all that shit happened and she killed her only child, Malia was eight weeks pregnant.” He was full on crying now, tears streaming freely.

“Oh my God, Stiles,” Kira said, her own eyes welling. She turned to Derek. “Why didn’t you tell us? You guys didn’t have to go through this alone.”

“It was too late! Malia was dead! It wouldn’t have brought her back!” Stiles shouted, arms flailing. “It was too early to tell anyone, and I didn’t- I didn’t- I thought I would jinx it. _Fuck!_ ” He glared at Derek. “The three of us and Malia’s doctor were the only ones who knew. October 12th was her due date. Are you happy now? Are you convinced?”

Derek sagged, the terror of the past two months and the strain of searching endlessly, running down every little lead until they learned about the lab in the mountains catching up to him and he was _done_. But he had found Stiles, his husband and love of his life, and it was over. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, as Stiles rushed into his waiting arms. “I’m so sorry. I looked for you, I never stopped, I was so scared, I-”

“Shut up,” Stiles grumbled, his face pressed against Derek’s shoulder. “I’m so glad you found me.”

“Uh, guys?” Wrapped in the comfortable bubble of gratitude and relief, Derek vaguely heard Kira’s voice, sounding uncertain and... scared? Why did she sound scared? “Derek? _Derek_.”

He turned to her, Stiles held firmly by his side, as his peripheral vision registered movement. Alan Deaton stepped out of the shadows with a second man, and Derek’s gut wrenched. 

“Get away from him, you fucking-”

“Stiles?!”

Derek whirled on the man in his arms, his husband, his _Stiles_. “What-?”

“Derek?” Stiles pulled away until Derek was only loosely holding his elbow, his face still blotchy and red. He faced the newcomers, Deaton and his doppelganger, in growing alarm. “Who’s that? Is that-?”

The Stiles who had arrived with Deaton was a mess. His hair was greasy, his clothes hung off his too thin frame, and he sported several old cuts and bruises along his face and arms. But the look in his eyes was bright and murderous. “I said, _GET AWAY FROM HIM_.”

“Now wait-” Derek started, but Deaton held up a fist.

“Allow me,” he said calmly. “We can resolve this quickly.” He opened his hand to reveal a bright powder that glowed blue in the moonlight and with a flick of his wrist, threw it at the Stiles still held fast in Derek’s grip.

“No, what-!” Stiles wailed as if in pain, his usual pale countenance seemingly melting away until his skin smoothed out and turned a sickly green pallor, his nostrils and eyelids disappearing. “What did you do to me? Deaton, what’s-” He held up his free arm, the one not in Derek’s hand, and gasped in horror. “What’s happening to me?!” He looked up, terrified and grief-stricken, and stared into his husband’s eyes. “Derek?!”

With an anguished roar, Derek extended his claws and drew them viciously across the impostor’s neck. Green blood flew in all directions as he tore the throat out of the thing that was now only a weak imitation of the man he loved. Caught in a red haze of rage and the almost palpable pain of betrayal, he grabbed at the now dead clone, carelessly ripping through clothes and skin, until a firm but gentle touch on the shoulder brought him back.

“Derek,” Stiles said, his hand squeezing softly. “Derek, it’s over. It’s dead. Hey, look at me.”

Derek felt himself being hauled up and straightened to find Stiles, the real Stiles, breathing hard with the exertion and giving him a small, almost imperceptible smile. “Did you gain weight while I was gone? Because seriously, you-”

Any other words were cut off as Derek threw himself at the other man. Stiles hugged him fiercely back, his apparently weakened state no match for the depth of his love. “He- it knew, Stiles,” Derek almost sobbed. He clung tighter and mumbled into Stiles’s temple, ashamed. “I thought he was you, I wanted him so much to be you.”

“Hey, these things, these clones, we knew it would be next to impossible to tell the difference,” Stiles pointed out, talking into Derek’s shoulder, much like his clone had done only minutes before. Derek shuddered, remembering, but Stiles held him close and refused to let go. “If Deaton hadn’t figured out how to force them back into their baseline body, even a werewolf’s nose wouldn’t have figured it out. Derek, it’s okay.”

But it wasn’t. “No, I’m telling you, it _knew_ ,” Derek stressed, pulling back to look Stiles in the eyes. “It knew about October 12th.”

Stiles blanched at that, startled, but Deaton cut in.

“If I may,” he said. “We found a lot of strange equipment and we have no idea how they were used. Whoever is behind these clones obviously discovered a way to insert memories into their subjects.” He looked down at the broken corpse and shook his head. “I would even go so far as to say that it thought it was the real Stiles.” He looked up, his face stony and determined. “We need to find out who’s behind this, and fast.”

“We will,” Stiles said firmly. He snaked an arm around Derek’s waist and held tight. “Kira, Scott’s with the others at the first lab we found by the lake. Let him know we have a clone and tell him we need him and Parrish to bring the body back to Deaton’s place.” He looked up at Derek and gave him a smile, heartsick and drained but real. “My husband and I are going home.”

**Author's Note:**

> There's quick mention of the death of a pregnant woman in this fic. If you know Secret Invasion and the significance of October 12th then you'll already know a little of where I'm going with this. I wasn't sure if I needed to tag for that so let me know if I need to, and if I'm missing any other tags, please.


End file.
